Thine, Lord, is wisdom, Thine

alone;

Justice and truth before Thee

stand;

Yet, nearer to Thy sacred

throne,

Mercy withholds Thy lifted

hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Each evening shows Thy tender

love,

Each rising morn Thy plenteous

grace;

Thy wakened wrath doth slowly

move,

Thy willing mercy flies apace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

To Thy benigh indulgent care,

Father, this light, this breath we

owe,

And all we have, and all we are,

From Thee, great source of

being, flow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Parent of good, Thy bounteous

hand,

Incessant blessing down distils,

And all in air, or sea, or land,

With plenteous food and

gladness fills.

 

 

 

 

 

All things in Thee, live, move

and are,

Thy power infused doth all

sustain

Even those Thy daily favours

share

Who thankless spun Thy easy

reign.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thy sun Thou biddest his genial

ray

Alike on all impartial pour;

To all, who hate or bless Thy

sway,

Thou buddest descend the

fruitful shower.

 

 

 

 

 

Yet while at length who scorned

Thy might,

Shall feel Thee a consuming fire,

How sweet the joys, the crown

how bright,

Of those who to Thy love aspire!

 

 

 

 

Thrice Holy! Thine the kingdom is,

The power omnipotent is Thine;

And when created nature dies

Thy never-ceasing glories shine.